


Captain Bucky

by Forgotten_Logic



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Cryofreeze (Marvel), Depression, Internalized Homophobia, Lonely Steve, M/M, Minor Religious Themes, Not enough to frustrate me so it should be alright, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgotten_Logic/pseuds/Forgotten_Logic
Summary: Somehow, someday, Steve would be reunited with James, even if the odds were against them.





	Captain Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> lol I haven't contributed to this fandom ever... lemme know anything lol I'm hip for criticism:3
> 
> Lol No beta.

**Prologue**

“Are you saying you’ll arrest me?” Steve asked, half knowing Natasha’s answer, but he had to ask. “No,” she replied into the phone. “Someone will. If you interfere. That's how it works now.” He knew it and sighed. “If he's this far gone, Nat, I should be the one to bring him in.” 

“Why?”

“Because I'm the one least likely to die trying.”

* * *

T'Challa’s eyes narrow as he glanced sideways at Steve. "The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior. And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king. So, I ask you... as both warrior and king... how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?” Steve stared straight ahead, stony, angry, afraid, not knowing what to possibly do with Bucky, or how to protect him.

* * *

“Steve,” Bucky mumbled, steely arm wedged within a vice. Steve walked up to him, arms crossed and chest tight. “Which Bucky am I talking to?” 

“Your mom's name was Sarah.” Bucky started to chuckle. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” Steve uncrossed his arms. “Can't read that in a museum.”

Sam turned to him with disbelief. “Just like that, we're supposed to be cool?”

“What did I do?”

“Enough,” Steve went quickly. “Oh, God, I knew this would happen.” Bucky sighed. “Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.” Steve felt heat build within himself, causing an unsure emotion come along with it.

* * *

“You're not gonna stop.” Natasha stood there, arm primed and ready to use her electric gauntlets. Steve and Bucky came to a stop just before her. “You know I can't.”

“I'm gonna regret this.” She stunned T'Challa, only stalling him for moments. “Go.” Steve and Bucky ran for the Quinjet while she kept T'Challa at bay.

* * *

“You sure about this?” Steve asked, quiet and somber. “I can't trust my own mind. So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing, for everybody.” Bucky gave Steve a small, sad smile as he leaned back and the cryo chamber closed.

Steve walked out, eyes drawn to the floor. Outside the room, T'Challa met him in front of the window of the cryo room. “Thank you for this,” he barely managed to whisper.

“Your friend and my father, they were both victims. If I can help one of them find peace…” T’Challa trailed off, he did not need to finish. Cap would understand. Silence took over for what felt much longer than its mere moments until Steve broke it. “You know, If they find out he's here... they'll come for him.”

“Let them try.”

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_It had been two years since Bucky had been put into cryo._ And yet it still stung like it happened yesterday. Steve thought about him more than anyone would have thought, or what they may have thought was only on the surface. 

The Sokovia Accords had added certain amendments, none that really mattered to Steve, however; none of it helped Tony with knowing the culprit of his parents’ death was all the Winter Soldier’s doing. He had only in spoken word forgiven Steve for knowing the truth, remaining civil enough. After all, it wouldn’t be polite for a man such as Stark, multibillionaire, and formerly known as Ironman, to start a tussle with the very symbol of American patriotism as it should be.

The only thing that had been good to happen in the two year span was that Thor and Bruce came back, albeit both were certainly different since last he saw either of them; the whole battle over Sokovia was the last time. Thor, without his hammer and without an eye, brought Banner and a whole shipload of Asgardians. Banner even looked better, less frail—if one could call him that—than before. What was unexpected however was the bombshell that Thor’s home, his people’s home, had been destroyed during Ragnarok. Steve did not quite understand what Thor had meant by that but he relented. 

Governments, the UN, did not care for a different race of people, although they look very similar to humans, coming to stay and live on their planet. It was a lot of paperwork that no one wanted to deal with, meetings, and newly made regulations that would “need” to take place. It was all overblown and unnecessary. For once, even Tony thought that asylum would outweigh some regulations, and losing their home did truly outweigh a lot of them. Afterall, rules were made to be broken—or that’s what some people say.

Even when Steve met those of Asgard, amongst them were other aliens. It was a reminder that Thor was not of the Earth, but also an alien. Steve did not think too much about it at first, probably due to the fact that he looked very human; and he would not be the only person that Steve had seen (albeit not in person) or heard about with powers that were beyond the usual reach of human compatibility. Like a mercenary by the name of Deadpool amongst others that were involved with a group of Mutants, the X-Men as they’re called. It kind of left him a lot confused but that did not stop him from only doing as he should on a daily basis. 

After all the first madness of the Earth-Asgard Compact was settled, like Thor and his people, Steve settled in Greenland. Further up north but away from the coast, comfortably hidden from unwanted eyes. His new home was only east of Etah, an abandoned settlement; tall and rugged atop a cliff that oversaw two small lakes just below. 

The Asgardians and Banner, they had settled north of a town called Qeqertarsuaq, which happened to also be the island’s name. There was scarcely anyone who lived there in the first place so it could be easily confused. 

But Steve was alone, cut off by his own accord. In the arctic climate only numbed him physically, his heart still beat in his chest for his frozen friend. Some part of him wanted to be in cryo too, to avoid Natasha saying that he needed a girlfriend, or The-Stalker-Spy-Who-Worked-For-S.H.I.E.L.D.-Sharon coming about in and out of his life. Romance had lost its purpose, even in his youth, it was something that he had tended to avoid, for good reason too. Being homosexual or even bisexual at the time was easily used to discriminate and used to throw about Bible terms and phrases that were taken out of context. Although the time he was in was more lenient, that did not mean he could allow himself to be sure of his feelings.

Was it stupid? Perhaps. Could Steve have chosen a different path? Perhaps. But one thing’s for sure, he was afraid and he would never let that show to anyone. No one else had to know and he would never tell them. Not Tony—he was about as straight as a longboard, not Bruce—he wasn’t entirely sure what he would say on the matter at all; he was a scientist after all and matters of the heart did sometimes get skimmed over by those who followed logic’s laws. Thor… he may understand but there were two things that made Steve uneasy, even after fighting with and beside him. The fact that he was a god (little ‘g’) and that Steve knew only the little bit he had come to know in passing, or from a glance at a Norse mythology book or Wiki. 

He looked out the window, seeing the dark water below, the sun out but not high enough for the light to shine down the cliff face. There were times that it almost did but that was still not then. Arms crossed and his prickly beard caught the wind, not from outside of course, far too cold for that. The fan above his head with wide blades, spun clockwise, best used to heat the room vice cool it. God knows it’s cold enough.

The view was beautiful, however, it did little to sully the chill that had inevitably crept its way into his bones. Steve turned away from the window that took up the wall and stepped down from the top ledge into the living room, which was a straight shot to the kitchen. His steps were quiet on the stone; the creak of his bones had gotten louder—all considering, for a 100-year-old, he wasn’t doing too bad for an old man. He snorted a laugh, _an old man_.

Peggy was right, he really did not get to live a life. Not seeing the world for decades and to be reawakened to a game that he had been to, knowing the day, the year; that could mess with anyone’s head royally. What he likes, what he does in the spare time is still something that others find odd. It’s unfortunate that he found little kinsmanship in the Army, or in Brooklyn, or even amongst the Avengers. 

A soldier in title and a soldier in mind, not much could change that about him. He was still more polite than many men in the new time that he had come to live in; he still avoided profanity. Funny thing, it’s why he avoids going to movies—well, not like there are any theatres around Greenland anyway, or where he was. Steve did not care for the potty mouths that had come to adorn each and every television set that he had seen, it was irritating and obscene. 

He opened a cabinet, steel, and very organized. If another person came into his home, they would certainly think either old and eccentric or; young and meticulous. On both accounts, it would be correct. He still made coffee the same way as he had when he left home, the cheap stuff in the coffee maker and let it go; let the water boil and there’s coffee. Easy.

On the island behind him beeped, a face cam popped up to reveal Natasha’s face. He could have figured it’d be her, she called often enough to check in on him. What’s so weird about living in a cold desolate place, alone, and detached from the outside world by choice? A lot, apparently. 

Steve had half a mind to let it ring but that half of his mind lost. He turned and tapped at the screen. “Natasha,” he greeted as his back was again to the screen. “Hey, Grampa Frisbee.”

“Grampa Frisbee…” he looked at her smug face out of the corner of his eye. “I haven’t had my shield since that whole debacle with Stark.” He opened the cabinet again, this time for a mug. 

“I’d call that a lot more than just a ‘debacle’.” The coffee making whistled, he poured it into his plain mug. “But anyway, you haven’t returned my last two calls. I was starting to wonder.”

“You do care, huh?” With his coffee in hand, Steve rested his other hand on the counter and faced the screen, sipping the joe. “Of course, you’re my friend. I’m Russian, not a bitch,” Natasha spoke with mild annoyance.

“Language.”

“Sure,” she groused. “So how do like living on the freezer platou?” Natasha tilted her head, slightly pursing her lips. He shrugged, swirling his still hot coffee. “It's good. Quiet.” For a moment Steve stared at the ceiling and the square light; for a house in the middle of nowhere, in a frozen abyss of a landscape, it was modern. “It's perfect to read in, so little distraction.” 

“Sometimes distractions are a good thing. Take your mind off of things,” Natasha quieted, eyes seemed to peer up at the camera. “You can't be alone forever, Steve.”

“I've been alone for a long time, not much has changed that.” He leaned back against the counter, allowing his posture to relax and be even more informal than it already was. “I'm used to it.”

“Steve…” Natasha whispered. “You don't have to go it alone. Everyone, even Tony—”

“—Really?” Incredulously he asked. She stopped and narrowed her eyes. “Most everyone,” she forcefully corrected, “wants you to be okay. We all know James’ disappearance hit you hard.” 

_You have no idea…_

King T’Challa had done well keeping the knowledge of Bucky’s existence within his kingdom silent. He had honor and pride, something that Steve could understand personally. “Yeah.” He nodded, only barely paying attention to Natasha. 

“Hey, Steve.” He dropped his eyes to the screen again. “I'm going to be coming over soon. States are not exactly suiting my fancy.” He hummed and smiled slightly. “Alright. Are you going to Qeqertarsuaq?”

“How come you say it with ease?”

“Practice. It does make perfect.” Steve smirked, eyes crinkled at the corners. 

“Whatever soldier boy. I'll be landing there so, yeah.” It was quiet again, just them staring at one another whilst Steve drank his coffee. It was not uncomfortable, however, it linger longer than either would care for.

“Well, I'll let you go, I guess.” Steve nodded again. “I'll see you soon at Qeqertarsuaq. Wait, when?” 

“Two weeks.”


End file.
